


Dating

by LondonGypsy



Series: 'I Do' [2]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Awkwardness, Boys Kissing, Developing Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Motorcycles, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2597660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A date, a motorbike, the sea and one day only to themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dating

**Author's Note:**

> And as promised here's the first of a few one shots - random moments from Alex's and Benedict's life.  
> I'll be posting them in order (at least the order I have in my head) so they'll fit into the timeline of 'I Do' but they don't have a particular place in it.
> 
> As always love and kudos to my beloved Barawen for the beta!

There's a wide smile on Alex's lips as he opens the door, letting an unusually shy Benedict in. 

"Morning," he murmurs, hesitating a moment before he presses a quick kiss on Alex's cheek. 

"Good morning." 

He motions the other man to come in. 

"Coffee?" 

"Thanks, already had two," Benedict says, standing a little awkwardly in the middle of Alex's sitting room. 

"Well, I need one." 

With that he vanishes into the kitchen to pour himself a cup. Walking back, he leans against the door-frame, watching Benedict wander around the room and taking in his lean figure. Although today it's obscured by the heavy clothes he's wearing. Nevertheless he's moving gracefully, not the least fazed by the clunky boots or the stiff jacket, and Alex drinks in every move. 

"How the hell do you do that?" he asks, starting Benedict who's having a closer look at his DVD collection. 

"Huh?" 

Alex gestures at him. 

"You, being all elegant and... flexible," he says lamely in lack of a better wording. 

Benedict's cheekbones get that rosy touch he always gets when Alex gives him a compliment and he scratches his neck, not quite meeting Alex's eyes. 

"Practice, I suppose," he says, shrugging, "been riding a bike for quite some time." 

"Hm, I see." 

Alex lets his eyes openly run over Benedict's form, biting back a grin as the man blushes some more - it amuses Alex immensely that he can do this with so little: a lovely word, a deep look, a fleeting caress and the man's face heats up. 

"Let's see how you do being shotgun today," Alex teases, emptying his coffee and dropping the mug in the sink. 

"Alright, shall we?" he asks, slipping in his own boots, lacing them.

Benedict nods and walks towards the door again. 

"Oh no, Mister, not that fast," Alex intervenes, hurrying after him and cornering him against the wall of his hallway. 

"We're going to be out almost all day and I will keep my hands to myself but I need an incentive," he mutters, crowding into Benedict's personal space.

Not letting him answer, he lays a hand on his cheek, sighing happily at the warmth of his skin and leans in to kiss him. 

Benedict tenses momentarily but as Alex hums soothingly, he relaxes and tentatively kisses back, his hands carefully settling on Alex's hips. 

Alex smiles into the kiss, licking over Benedict's soft lips, silently asking for entrance which Benedict grants. Angling his head, he slides his tongue inside his mouth, moaning quietly at the feeling. 

It chases a gentle thrill down his spine as he feels Benedict melt under his touch and moan quietly against his mouth, his fingers tightening on the rough fabric of his trousers. 

Their relationship is still young and fragile, they're still feeling their way around each other and every kiss, every touch is new and exciting for both of them. 

Some days Alex just can't believe it and he always reminds himself by touching Benedict casually: a caress of his hair, a brushed hand over his shoulder. And Benedict always reacts with a shy, lopsided smile that makes Alex's heart stutter. 

Reluctantly Alex breaks the kiss and leans back, taking in the man before him. Benedict's eyes are closed, his lips parted and he scrunches his nose as Alex drops a tiny peck on the tip of it. 

"Come on you, let's go," he says, surprised at the roughness of his voice. 

He takes a step back, his fingers linger a moment longer on Benedict's smooth skin before he lets go with a sting in his stomach. 

Clearing his throat he slips on his jacket and grabs his helmet. 

"Mine or yours?" he asks as they leave the flat. 

"You said shotgun so I reckon that means you're driving," Benedict says as they walk down the stairs and into the cool spring day. 

"Only if that's okay with you," Alex replies, zipping up his jacket. 

"Sure. James told me you're a good and safe driver." 

Alex laughs and leads Benedict to his motorbike. 

"Did he really say that? I remember the first time he rode with me. The curses are still ringing in my ears. And I think he broke my ribs." 

Benedict dons his helmet and grins, his eyes twinkling amused through the visor. 

"Then you better drive well, I'm stronger than him." 

Alex chokes at the unspoken imply, pushing his helmet rather forcefully over his head and swings a leg over the seat of his motorcycle. 

Fumbling the key in the lock he feels Benedict hesitate a second before he hears him exhale and then slip behind him, his weight heavy and oddly assuring in his back. 

"You ready?" he calls as he starts the engine. 

Instead of an answer Benedict's long arms slide around his waist, warm and solid, not holding on, just resting around his midst.  

Inhaling deeply he rights the bike, checks the mirror and slowly steers it onto the street. 

Instantly he feels Benedict's grip around him tighten which shoots an electric shock trough his limbs. 

He tries to concentrate on the traffic but he can feel Benedict's chest pressed against his back, feels his muscular thighs close harder around his own legs and faintly thinks that only four layers of clothes separate him from naked skin. 

He groans quietly, ignoring the twitching in his trousers and steers the bike through the busy streets until they reach the motorway where he accelerates, the wind zinging around them. 

It's been a while since he's driven this fast, usually he only drives in the city but his body remembers the feeling of freedom as he weaves through the other cars, leaving them behind him. 

A giddy laughter bubbles up as the countryside whizzes past, his blood rushing loudly in his veins and for a second he even forgets his precious passenger. 

But then Benedict presses tighter against him, calling loudly over the howling of the engine: 

"Are we in a hurry?" 

Alex shakes his head and slows down a bit, feeling Benedict's grip loosen a little. 

Wordlessly he keeps driving, slowly understanding why Benedict asked him to take it easy. 

The countryside is gorgeous: spring has everything in its hand. All along the motorway the trees are bright green, blossoming like Alex has never seen in the city - nature's awakening after a long hard winter. 

The further they go the less the traffic gets and as he leaves the motorway and follows the signs to the sea, he almost regrets that they’ve arrived. 

Cruising around the streets he keeps an eye out for a spot to park, and eventually parks close to the pier. 

Cutting the engine, he stays put for a moment, enjoying the silence before he pulls off his helmet, glancing over his shoulder. 

Benedict's smiling widely at him. Taking off his helmet he hops off the bike, running a hand through his hair. 

"You _are_ a good driver," he admits, "a bit hasty but I'll overlook that." 

He grins wider, winking at Alex who only can stare at him for a second. 

Benedict's high cheekbones are reddened from the ride, his dark curls tousled, his eyes shimmering mischievously, his lean body hidden underneath the heavy clothes.

"God, you're gorgeous." 

Alex instantly bites his lips; he hadn’t meant to say it, it just came out. 

Benedict blushes deeply, fiddling with the strap of his helmet but as he looks up from under his lashes, he's smiling. 

"Thanks," he murmurs and after a pause, "so are you." 

Alex isn't prepared for the jolt of pure affection that surges through his veins at those words. Neither did he expect to be utterly speechless; it rarely happens that anything has him at a loss for words. 

They look at each other for a long moment and then Benedict lifts his helmet. 

"Do you-?" 

"Oh yes, sure. Here," Alex hastily opens the trunk and drops his helmet in there. He waits for Benedict to put his in too, then shuts and locks it. 

"So," he says, clearing his throat, "what now?" 

Benedict lets his eyes roam over the wide pier with its busy booths, the roller-coasters and the fantastic view at the sea. 

"Are you hungry yet?" he asks. 

"Not really. You?" 

"Nah. Shall we just have a wander around?" 

"Sounds perfect to me." 

Slowly they start walking. It's a cool morning, cloudy and a bit windy and Alex is glad for the heavy and warm jacket. Casting a glance over to Benedict he sees that the man has zipped his own up to his chin and his hands buried deep in the pockets. 

"You cold?" Alex asks softly. 

Benedict shakes his head. 

"No, I'm good." 

"'kay." 

Wordlessly they stroll around the pier and down towards the water. 

Alex desperately tries to think about something to talk about. 

It always takes a bit, to come back to one another, get comfortable again.

"How did shooting go?" he asks after a while. 

Benedict chuckles. 

"Martin can't stop staring at me. The hair's irritating him immensely." 

Alex laughs. 

"I reckon Watson needs a bit to get used to Sherlock with short hair, huh?" 

Benedict nods. 

"Yes. And I do too. But I really like it, makes everything a bit easier." 

"I wonder what the fans will say," Alex muses. 

"They'll get used to it. Was about time though. Been working on Steven for years now and I'm very glad he finally gave in." 

Slowly but surely the conversation starts flowing while they wander around the pier. 

Benedict talks enthusiastically and Alex listens attentively. 

Benedict’s dark rich baritone is always worth listening to, even more so when he talks about the things he loves so obviously. He's so passionate about it and Alex admires that.

He's never felt that about his work even though he likes what he does but for him it's just a way to earn his money. Benedict's work is much more than that, it's his everything, he loves it fiercely and Alex envies that a little. 

"You couldn't do anything else, could you?" he asks as Benedict stops talking, making the other man look at him. 

"Hm, no. Not really. I mean, I did consider becoming a barrister, as basically everyone out there knows," he quirks a smile, "but I think in the long run that wouldn't have made me as happy and fulfilled as this." 

He shrugs, his eyes staring out onto the sea, not seeing for a moment. 

"I'm glad you do what you do," Alex says softly, "you're incredible at it. Your talent would be wasted in a court room." 

Benedict ducks his head but Alex can see the flattered expression on his face. Benedict bites his lower lip and casts a quick look around: they're basically alone on the beach. Pulling one hand out of his pocket he lays it on Alex's cheek, his thumb lightly caressing his cool skin. 

"Thanks," he murmurs and leans in to brush a quick kiss over Alex's lips. He then pulls back, stuffing his hand back in his pocket. 

Alex can't help but smile widely. 

"What's with the 'no touching in public' rule?" he teases with a happily thrumming pulse. 

"Here is no public," Benedict shoots back, his tone a tad defensive which makes Alex laugh delightedly. 

"Come on you, lets go somewhere warm, I'm freezing my arse off," he says, knowing instinctively to just drop the subject. 

They walk back, shoulders brushing every now and then until they reach the more crowded part of the pier. After a bit of a discussion they agree on lunch at one of the many fish restaurants and they pick one that looks less frequented. In fact, they're the only customers which makes for the fastest service Alex has every witnessed. 

They keep chatting leisurely, fingers brushing casually over the table and every time a spark explodes in Alex's stomach. 

After lunch they return onto the promenade, buying ice creams and greasy chips. 

Later they have coffee and cake at a small café at the other end of the bay. 

Benedict complains jokingly that he's not going to fit in his costume and Alex laughs and buys him another sweet delicacy which Benedict wolfs down in no time. 

When the sun comes out and it gets warmer, they sit on a ledge surrounding the cove, smoking a cigarette and Alex is making him guess the jobs of the people walking by. 

"You know I'm only playing him," he laments, "I can't actually do-" 

"Hush, you're doing great," Alex giggles, pointing at another person. 

Rolling his eyes Benedict makes an absolutely ridiculous guess which has them both dissolve into mad cackles, causing people to eye them suspiciously. 

Ducking his head, Benedict hides his face behind the collar of his jacket, swatting at Alex playfully. 

"If people recognise me I'm blaming you." 

"And then what?" Alex quips, "you'll spank me?" 

Benedict splutters and flushes a beet red that makes Alex file that thought away in his head. 

*

Before they know the sun's setting over the sea, painting the most colourful sunset into the sky. 

Benedict had suggested to drive back before dark but Alex had declined. He doesn't want the day to end and deep down inside he wants to watch the sunset with Benedict. 

The rational voice in his head calls him a "romantic fool" but he ignores it: for once he wants to be one. 

Earlier he had spotted a quiet part of the beach, just below the pier where several beach chairs are scattered over the sand and now that it gotten cold, it's completely deserted. The pier itself is already closing, the booths are shutting down and there are only a few more people hurrying about. 

Alex motions Benedict to follow him and they sneak down the sand until they reach the furthest chair. It's an old-fashioned one, big and with a canopy above and even some damp cushions in it. 

It's not perfect but Alex is wiling to accept a cold arse on the ride back if it means he can spend a few moments alone with the man by his side. 

"Come on," he pleads as Benedict eyes the rumpled padding doubtfully before he flops onto them, wrinkling his nose at the stale smell. 

"You really know how to woo a man," he grumbles but he leans back and stretches his long legs. 

"Yeah well, I've arranged a gorgeous sunset," Alex says cheekily, motioning towards the horizon, "only for you." 

Benedict mutters under his breath but as Alex slips his hand in his and laces their fingers together, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. 

Silently they watch the sun sink lower, paint the sky and the sea in orange, pink and gold, making the few grey clouds in the sky glow brightly. 

The only sound is the water rushing against the sand, and the distant screeching of some seagulls fighting over something down at the shore. 

"Thanks for today," Benedict breaks the silence, "that was just what I needed." 

"You're more than welcome," Alex replies quietly, turning his head towards him and meeting Benedict's eyes. 

Suddenly the atmosphere shifts - where before there was a casual camaraderie now is the tense crackling of two lovers. 

Alex's heart starts beating a bit harder as Benedict shifts closer, lifting a hand and running a gentle finger over the side of Alex's face. The touch sends a shiver down his spine and his lids flutter  closed. 

"It's not going to be easy," he hears Benedict's deep voice rumble, "keeping my hands off of you when I want nothing more than to bury my hands in your hair and kiss you until we're both out of breath." 

Alex sighs quietly, pressing into the palm now splayed out on his cheek. 

"Then do it," he whispers, "nobody's here to-" 

Benedict's warm mouth swallows the last words and Alex groans at the softness of his lips, swiping over his, a firework of sudden desire shooting through his body. 

Long nimble fingers creep over his neck and curl around the back of his head as Benedict moves closer. There's the wet slide of his tongue and Alex opens his mouth eagerly, moaning at the slick sweetness and the taste of him as he deepens the kiss. 

Alex lifts shaky hands and buries them in Benedict's short curls, relishing the coarse softness, inhaling his unique scent: he smells of sun and sea-salt. It's a heady combination that makes Alex moan again, licking deeper into his mouth and making him groan roughly in return. 

They keep kissing and clinging to each other until they have to break it. Gasping for air they look at each other, eyes wide and dark in the twilight settling around them. 

"Definitely breathless," Alex mumbles, nipping on Benedict's plush lower lip. 

"Guess I'm good at another thing besides acting then," he says huskily, "I doubt I can put that in my CV though." 

Alex huffs a laugh against his lips.

"It might get you a very different kind of job," he says, growling lowly as Benedict's hand slips past the collar of his jacket, gentle fingertips caressing the skin below his neck. 

Benedict hums and then his mouth is back on Alex's and for a while there's no more talking, only the soft noises of deep, desperate kisses. 

Eventually they part, foreheads resting against each other and panting; they notice that it's gone dark around them. 

"We should head home," Benedict mutters, reluctantly letting go of Alex and straightening his jacket. 

"Yours or mine?" Alex asks lightly even though there's a simmering fire burning in his veins - he wants more but he knows he can't push Benedict. The man's still getting used to their relationship, is still adjusting and Alex knows better than to force things. 

Benedict pulls back, scanning Alex's face intently. 

Alex waits patiently; he can see the wheels turning and there's the sharp pang of hope in his stomach. 

"My bike is still at your place," Benedict says quietly, his voice hoarse but there's a determined undertone in it it. 

Alex nods mutely and scrambles to his feet, holding out a hand. 

Benedict takes it and stands too, brushing sand from his backside.

Alex leans in and presses a short kiss to his mouth before he lets go completely and starts walking back to where his motorbike is parked. 

He's overly aware of the other man closely behind him but he doesn't say anything anymore as they mount the bike and Alex kicks it to life. 

The drive back is quiet, the streets are almost empty and it doesn't take long until they arrive at Alex's place. 

Alex parks the bike and takes off his helmet, stowing it away in the trunk. Then he looks at Benedict who has taken his helmet off as well. 

"My bike's over there," he says, gesturing to the other side of the road but not making a move towards it.

Alex nods, fiddling with the keys in his hands, trying to make a decision. 

He doesn't want the day to end. Taking a deep breath he throws all caution in the wind. 

"Want to come up for a coffee? Or a drink?" he blurts out, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. 

Benedict's eyes widen as he looks at Alex. He tilts his head, noticeably thinking about the offer and it's unspoken meaning. 

Then he exhales, his shoulders square and he nods curtly. 

"Yes," he whispers, his voice barely audible and Alex leans unconsciously closer, "a drink sounds good. Or coffee. Or whatever else you have in mind." 

The last comes out hushed and in such a dark tone that Alex involuntarily shudders in anticipation. 

"Okay," he says weakly, walking towards the door to his flat, his stomach suddenly full of butterflies. 

"You know," Benedict whispers in his ear, pressing his chest against his back as Alex fumbles with the key, "I don't have to work tomorrow." 

Alex can't suppress the full on body shudder that surges through him at Benedict's words and his hot breath against his skin. 

He barely manages to open the door and as he stumbles inside, Benedict's large hands steady him, closing securely around his hips, his lithe figure still pressed against Alex. 

"I don't think I even have drinks," Alex croaks, kicking the door shut behind them. 

Benedict's low laugh echoes in the air as they make their way up the stairs. 

 


End file.
